


The Lovely Late-Springs of Moominvalley

by StaticSyndrome



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Another fic where they just vibe pretty much, Drabble, Gratuitous descriptions of nothing at all kind of, I don’t know I’m bad at evaluating my own writing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oneshot, Other characters are very briefly mentioned, Sleep, Slightly awkward dialogue, Springdove, but you’d have to have pretty selective reading for this fic, can technically be read platonically, its the small interactions that give ya the feel, nap, uhhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:34:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29692329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StaticSyndrome/pseuds/StaticSyndrome
Summary: Snufkin and Moomin are comfortable, and loving, and they both get some very much deserved rest.
Relationships: Mumintrollet | Moomintroll & Snusmumriken | Snufkin, Mumintrollet | Moomintroll/Snusmumriken | Snufkin
Kudos: 14





	The Lovely Late-Springs of Moominvalley

The sun arose once again with a certain Moomintroll heavy as a rock in his bed. The grass was waving with the rhythm of the incoming summer winds, which were more warm than cool and relieving. It had been a couple of months since Snufkin had returned to the valley, and he’d settled nicely into his tent beside the river. Late spring was always the loveliest- Snufkin was calm, and would be staying for a while longer before some week-long expedition, and Moomin had gotten over being hyper-excitable from Snufkin’s still-new presence. Every year came and went, and by now they knew how the months would ebb, flow, and melt into each other. It was comfortable and domestic in all the ways that mattered. Over the years, Moomin had grown and rounded out a little more, with his fur sticking out fluffy and long. It stuck out in all sorts of odd places, but was what Snufkin reckoned to be the softest thing in Moominvalley, if not the entire world. Snufkin grew into sharper edges, fur growing in, and hair growing out only to be unceremoniously hacked with a knife in another season or two. Moomin thought it was awfully cute, though he did look a bit murderous when he had a knife in his paw. They were older now, and it showed in the effortless dynamic they shared.

This particular summer day, Moomin woke up in his bed bright and early (though it took him awhile to do so), sleepiness playing at his eyes, and dreams still laying thick in his brain. He stumbled towards his window to look out towards the rushing stream, and more accurately, towards Snufkin’s well worn tent. It wasn’t a surprise when he saw him fishing and sitting on the bank, tail swishing lazily, but it really was still quite a wonderful sight to see nonetheless. His soft, awaiting bed seemed to beckon him back, and while laying down for a few more hours may have been enjoyable, it would definitely be no more so than conversation with Snufkin. Really, he hadn’t had a choice, he simply had to eat breakfast and visit him afterwards. He pounded down the stairs of the house enthusiastically, his eyes laying themselves on the jars of jam on the table, and the plate of still-warm pancakes right beside them. He plopped down into a chair and started eating with vigor. By far, this was the longest meal of the day, or it felt so, at least, to Moomin. He had gone through dinner, night, and wake without Snufkin, and despite being more well-mannered, he was still a very eager troll. Respecting Snufkin’s space was important to him, but whenever he could, he wanted to make the absolute most out of the time he would be able to spend with him in between all his shorter journeys, walks, and bouts of wanting to be contentedly alone. Soon enough, the pancakes had been reduced to crumbs and no traces of jam were left except for the remnants that somehow made their way onto his snout. He was now ready to run out the front door.

Snufkin, of course, was no stranger to Moomin’s obvious enthusiasm. As such, when he heard the grass being disturbed by fast steps and quiet panting from behind him, he already knew what we would see by the time he turned around.

“Moomintroll!”, he called over, and Moomin continued his quest with the newfound encouragement.

A huge smile now found itself on Moomin’s face, as he finally reached his dear friend. Snufkin gave him a small grin of his own.

As usual, Moomin began their banter, “Fish biting?” It came out as more of an exhale, rushed and slightly shaky. The question was well practiced, and despite the fumbling Snufkin paid it no mind. 

The answer, however, would always be a little charmingly different, “Well,” he started, “Only if that bucket looks full to you.” His tone was playful, and out of curiosity, Moomin had to look inside his bucket. 

Moomin pouted a bit upon the inspection, it was even less full than he’d been expecting! It was no loss to Snufkin, though, who admired the look on his face with a short chuckle. They continued their conversation. It was of fish and water, summers and springs, memories and stories of winters, and littered with adoring comments and kind expressions. The heat, though, made for a very sleepy descent into the afternoon. Moomin’s speech became a little more slurred, and his decision to wake up early began to have its consequences. He kicked his feet back and forth in the water, hoping to stir up some energy in him as the coldness drenched his fur. Snufkin himself became a little more quiet, speech more akin to loud whispers than a level voice. 

Moomin could barely stand the warmth under all his fur, but Snufkin was probably worse off. The lad still wore his smock, and every additional component that he usually wore with it. It really wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but if the sweat on Snufkin’s forehead was any indication, he felt it just as well. With a long groan, Moomin laid down on the grass dramatically. At this interruption, Snufkin startled, but laid down to mimic Moomin with a great thump and turned to him.

Snufkin looked at Moomin plainly, but a smile was still evident on his face as he opened his mouth, “You Moomins are such sleepy creatures. You just woke up from a season-long slumber this spring! Do you really still wish to nap?”

Moomin furrowed his brow, “Now, Snuf, that’s just unfair! I can see you’re tired too you know, I know you well enough. Don’t pretend that you don’t come from a father who’s only real notable quality is napping at every opportunity!”

At this, a snort escaped Snufkin, “Oh alright Moomin! Hush, I suppose you win. Come now,” he lifted himself off the ground with a slight grunt and held out his hand.

Upon being pulled up, Moomin stumbled clumsily. Paw in paw, Snufkin started walking briskly, with a devious smile and equally devious purpose. Moomintroll pondered a bit about where in the valley Snufkin was taking them, but trusted him enough that he kept quiet so that he wouldn’t have the surprise ruined. The two came upon a vast stretch of a field, delightfully green and grassy, with wildflowers popping out of the ground with reckless abandon. With a hop, Snufkin laid himself down, and Moomin followed his actions. They laughed pleasantly when they came upon the ground, and Moomin at last understood the reason for the brief walk. This was a perfect napping place, somewhere where leisurely afternoons were spent best. 

Snufkin abandoned his hat, and settled into the ground. Grass was never so comfortable as it was today. Moomin gave him one last look, heart pounding with adoration, before closing his eyes. He laid on his side comfortably, Snufkin laid on his back, sprawled out like a cat. In this place, the heat became an accompaniment to the tired, and soaking it up made closed eyes heavy and bodies loose. The wind striking through the grass gave off a harmonious sound that was welcomed into both of the boys’ ears. Sleep was not hard to find. The perfect environment gave way to perfect dreams, the sun blocked out any trace of fear, worry, and nightmare. Their minds were calm. They could rest, and they did so together.

They would awake without much fanfare, and much in the way that one wakes but does not decide to do anything but keep their eyes closed. They became conscious, and the sky was darker, sun in the middle of setting. 

When Snufkin opened his eyes, he gasped, “Moomin,” he shook, “Look at that sight!” His voice was filled with wonderment. After all his experiences, he still enjoyed all the moments he was able to take in, and the beauties he was able to see. 

Moomin rubbed his eyes and looked, propping himself up, “Oh my,” he said without thinking, “isn’t that just a vision?” 

For a couple of minutes, or perhaps another hour (Neither Snufkin nor Moomin would really be able to tell anyone, for moments last forever in Moominvalley), they watched the sky change color, beautiful and simple. 

“Thank you for the nap,” Moomin uttered quietly, facing Snufkin. 

Still looking towards the sky in admiration Snukfin answered him softly, “It’s nothing to thank me for. Really, it was as much for me as it was for you. And besides, your company made it all that much more lovely.” 

Moomin felt himself flushing, more than he had been from the heat of the day that was quickly cooling off as evening befell the two. He failed to find words, “I er-uh. Same to you, from me. What I mean is, that. You made my afternoon rather- well. Lovely really is the best word-“

Snufkin cut him off with a jovial laugh, and Moomin found himself laughing alongside him, “I know what you mean,” Snufkin said softly, looking at Moomin rather than the pleasant colors swirling in the sky. 

Moomin was now well-rested enough to be able to glean some meaning from that, thanks to his and Snufkin’s little adventure. In return for the small yet significant gesture, Moomin toppled Snufkin over with a hug. The hug was strong, and was usually the type reserved for when they reunited. Snufkin wouldn’t complain, he would take a large fluffy hug whenever offered, it really was a one-of-a-kind thing. Life would be dreadful, he thought, if he’d never been able to experience the wonder of one of Moomin’s embraces. 

There’s a love that persists in Moominvalley. It’s plain in Moominmama and Moominpapa’s interactions, in the way Snufkin is silently protective of Little My, in the charm Snorkmaiden gives, and in the kindness Moomin shows his group of friends. Most of all, perhaps, this love is evident between Moomin and Snufkin. It’s a love without explanation, hesitation, or worry. It’s a thick, indulgent thing. It keeps the valley alive and beautiful. They’ve come to understand each other intimately, and still, they love. It’s unconditional and thorough, and every bit of it is made of each of them. Between them is the heart of the valley. It’s a morose goodbye, and a thrilled hello. They laugh so hard that they can’t hear anyone but themselves, and they sometimes converse so silently that even the nosy bugs hidden in leaves don’t know of their shared secrets. Some things will always remain true: Late spring will give opportunity for life, grass will whistle when provided with wind, and Snufkin and Moomin will love each other completely.

**Author's Note:**

> Me, like, what a year ago?: “I’m gonna write more for this fandom :D because it’s my main one!!!”
> 
> Since then:
> 
> Hullo! It’s been a while since I wrote fiction, so I’m sorry if it’s not up to par with the rest of the wonderful works under these tags! Thank you for reading and for your time, lovely people, and I hope you enjoyed! Once again, this work is inspired by fanart that I made. If you want to check it out, here’s a link (I don’t know how to embed images here uH): https://www.instagram.com/p/CK-mv2OAMyr/?igshid=1h2vsqkr21szx
> 
> Have an amazing rest of your day!


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